


the name forever on my lips is yours

by goreallegore



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Prince Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:28:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goreallegore/pseuds/goreallegore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What did you forget?” his voice was small, Niall was afraid that Harry might’ve not heard him but the look on his face said the opposite.</p><p>“I never clearly told you how I feel about you,” Harry stopped to pull out a journal from his back pocket, “I wrote about it you see.” He was holding a battered moleskin that seemed like it had ink all over it. Niall had seen it before but never dared to ask what it was; but now that Harry stood in front of him shyly flipping through the pages, he realized what it was. Niall felt like he was running short on air.</p><p>Or; Niall is a modern day Prince and Harry is no damsel in distress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the name forever on my lips is yours

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii, this is my first time actually writing fic that i ended up finishing, usually i have one too many ideas and not enough words. Even though this probably sucks i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope you have fun reading it. 
> 
> also, this is /sorta/ an early birthday present for my lovely friend sam. i love you and your love for narry and i hope you like it :)
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr: peonyiris.tumblr.com

When Niall was born an air of joy and celebration spread throughout the kingdom. Magnolia had never seen this form of celebration before, but then again, it was the birth of the long-awaited Prince; the one who’ll be ruling over the entirety of the dominion. The thing was since the Queen’s womb had been barren for years, the anticipation and worry of not having an eventual heir had been increasing. It was believed that the Royal family was cursed or had been put under a spell by some dainty witch. To think, even in today’s time people believed that.

So, when the Prince was born, he was pampered and coddled to no end. His every whim was deemed as an order rather than a childish request, maids running after him, butlers cleaning after the messes that were made. The palace had certainly become livelier, filled with chatter and laughter. When the tiny toes grew enough to attend school the parents feared that the child might be mistreated in the outside world so homeschooling was decided for him. To say that the Prince never saw streetlights or walked among commoners was completely true. His sheltered upbringing kept him behind doors that even he couldn’t open, an intangible barrier hindering him from an unfamiliar world.  
Among the commoners, there were numerous rumors ranging from the Prince being mentally unstable to the whole birth being a hoax. Harry never paid attention to the flying rumors mostly because instead of indulging in the latest town gossip he was living his hell of a life one day at a time. Despite being born into a Noble family, he had lived his entire life in tyranny under his step-mother. A long time ago (his memories were a little hazy now) he lived in a beautiful townhouse with his father and mother, but once his mother contracted tuberculosis and passed away, he was abandoned to loneliness. His father went off and got married to a widow named Esmerelda, who brought with her two snobby daughters.

Initially, the prospect of having a new mother seemed delightful even if she couldn’t take the place of his birth one. He welcomed his new family with open arms and a warm smile. But as soon as his father left for work overseas his step-mother had a shift in her attitude; she became bitter and harsh. However, it wasn’t until a lazy Sunday morning when a courier was brought to their door, informing them the passing of his father that the real torture began. He was 6 then and 17 now. He would complain, but by now carrying out tedious chores, being bossed around and picking up after the spoiled step-sisters was his life, and as long as he was fed three times a day and provided sufficient clothing he wasn’t about to complain.

It was Mid-March when the Prince of Agra arrived at Magnolia, alongside his seneschal. The Prince of Agra was known across Magnolia for his beauty and eye for fine art, he was only 19 and was already overlooking the trade and business of his land. His father was a very proud man because of which he had overlooked his son’s slip-ups on many occasions. Agra and Magnolia had formed an alliance ages ago, during the reign of the Ahzi Dynasty and had been on cordial terms ever since. Though the relations further improved when King Yaser and King Robert attended the same institute for their higher education; after all, it is said that the best of friendships are formed over books. The men were inseparable thereafter and similarly, despite, being sheltered from the rest of the world, Prince Niall was allowed to acquaint with Zayn, the Prince of Agra. They became fast friends after a couple of visits which is why Zayn made sure to visit his beloved friend every spring. He would say, “You’re much prettier under the cherry blossoms and the clear blue sky. A sight I wouldn’t dare miss.”

Niall was still asleep when Zayn arrived which wasn’t much of a shock since there wasn’t much to do around the palace aside from his usual classes and walking about in the garden, and Niall had seen enough sakura’s bloom for a lifetime. His deep slumber was soon disturbed when his door flung open with a loud thud.  
“Wake up, you lazy arse! It’s a beautiful day and the world awaits,” an ever-so familiar voice filled the room. Every year, Niall waited patiently for his best friend’s arrival, counting days, minutes, seconds even. Waiting for the only person in his life who could fill the growing gaps of loneliness in his aching heart.

“Welcome back, Z” he replied hoarsely, sitting up while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Once his blurry vision cleared he could see the warm smile and hazel eyes look at him with the softest expression he’s ever seen. He wasn’t aware human beings had the ability to look so serene and beautiful, but then again the holder of the gaze was Zayn Malik. Only he could look picturesque after such a tedious journey.

His thoughts were interrupted when a maid came rushing in, informing both boys that the King expects them to get ready and meet him downstairs for brunch.  
“Guess I should freshen up. See you soon, Ni.” And with that Zayn left the room, taking the warm fuzzy feeling that enveloped the room with him. Only if he could stay here all the time, Niall thought.

Brunch turned into more of a sparring match between Zayn and Niall’s father over how Niall should get married soon. Niall had been adamant that he wasn’t going to marry a girl he knew nothing about. Status and wealth of the maidens seemed trivial to him compared to the idea of getting to know one another. Once they excused themselves from the dining hall they made their way to the terrace, a spot that had become a casual hangout for Niall over the years.

“Sorry about my father,” he croaked as steadily as he could, trying to control the nervousness vibrating through his entire body.

“You never have to apologize to me for something so trivial,” Zayn said, giving him one of those lazy smiles, one that he knew was reserved for his loved ones.

“Anyway, forget this, you tell me what is new with your life? Last time, you called you said you had something important to tell me” he replied, calmly switching the topic from his dull life to the colorful escapades Zayn had the honor of calling his life.

“I broke off my engagement with Pez,” to which Niall countered, “yes, because you must’ve forgotten that we get the news in Magnolia and we are very well aware of the drama going on in Agra right about now.”

“But you don’t know why!” he chided, throwing his hands in the air as if Niall had said something ridiculous.

“Wasn’t it because you want to finish school or something?”

“No, you twat! I met someone! And I wasn’t willing to continue that arranged marriage just for the sake of others.” A very exasperated Zayn explained.

“Oh, who’s the lucky lass?” for some reason, the idea of Zayn meeting someone new was thrilling, but then again Niall did live vicariously through Zayn’s adventures.

“Actually, a lucky lad.” He corrected.

The shock must be apparent on Niall’s face because Zayn’s expression had taken a swift turn from excited to uncertain, as if he had made the wrong decision in telling Niall about his budding romance. He knew then that he is probably the first person Zayn has admitted this to which must mean he is looking for some sort of approval or at least a hearty ‘congrats’. Niall wasn’t willing to let his best friend misconstrue his reaction because albeit being taken aback he was definitely happy that his friend had come to him bearing his good news, once again exemplifying his trust in Niall, “Z that is absolutely marvelous!”

“You’re not bothered by it?” the boy asked, worry etched into his furrowed brows.

“Bothered? Why would I be? My best mate has found someone to love whole-heartedly, I can only envy you!” Niall gesticulated with his hands, a habit that he had picked up from one of his Uncle’s.

“Happy with an another man?” he questioned hesitantly.

“Zayn, the King of Corinth is married to a man and besides we have evolved as humans enough to leave our petty ignorance about sexuality behind,” the blond claimed, remembering his lectures from his Sexuality, Gender and Community class.

“I don’t care about societal views, you doof! I am seeking your approval, whether you’re okay with this.”

“Of course, I am,” Niall said as he placed his hand on Zayn’s shoulder giving him a squeeze, “though I want to meet this heartthrob who has stolen your heart.”

“Funny you asked. He is actually very eager to meet you as well, you know since you’re from the same country and all.”

“Wait, he’s from Magnolia? You cheeky bastard! Invite him here, tomorrow, or today!” Niall jumped in excitement eager to meet the humble stranger.

“Can’t. Commoners aren’t allowed in the palace, remember?” Zayn grinned.

Niall was more baffled than ever, he had too many questions on the tip of his tongue but before he could say them out loud he was being dragged by an inked hand down the stairs, through the garden. It wasn’t until they untangled themselves from grape vines and walked through a dingy wooden door that he came to realize he had set foot outside the castle for the first time, ever!

It was too bright he gathered and there was too much noise but not the kind that distracted you instead more of a buzz fading as you continued your journey. There were one too many people and he was sure that any second his claustrophobia might kick in but it didn’t. Oddly, even though the streets were narrow and tight no one bumped into him making the situation less overwhelming. Zayn holding his hand helped too. Over the years, whenever he had dreamt of the outside world he either had concocted a completely bizarre world filled creatures who neither spoke his language nor held the same features or a world filled rainbows and too many colors to splatter on a canvas. The reality was far from imagination, it was sort of normal, comforting.  
Niall was still processing his surroundings when they came to an abrupt halt making him bump into Zayn. His friend turned around, with a smile plastered across his face, as he said, “We’re here!”  
Niall looked up to a pale yellow awning which had the words Frisco boulangerie painted on it in the center in bright orange, his eyes drifted back down to the store that had glass doors and cupcakes painted on the window panes in pink. It was sort of – petite, he thought. Once Zayn opened the door, the bell above them jingled alarming the boulanger of customers. A young man appeared from behind the counter, he had chocolate brown eyes and brown hair hidden under a chef hat. He was smiling brilliantly at them as if he knew who they were and then it clicked!

“Bonjour, what brings you to this side of the town?” he teased, smile still in place. Niall realized that he wasn’t smiling at them but he was smiling at Zayn because as far as the boulanger knew Niall was an unfamiliar face.

“I missed you,” Zayn had the most relaxed expression Niall had ever seen. It was as if everything was right with the world as his friend expressed his unadulterated feelings.

“I missed you too, love” the other boy expressed, jumping over the ledge near the register and walking towards Zayn. He wrapped his big arms –he had come to notice- around Zayn’s tiny frame, reveling his presence. Both boys stood there for a bit, holding one another, and to the outside world they seemed like two old friends reuniting with one another, but to Niall they were lovers embracing. Though their hug was short-lived as a young lanky boy came rushing in paying no heed to his surroundings.

“Liam, bread! I need the bread! She’ll kill me if I don’t get it,” he managed as fast as he could, struggling to catch his breath. Clearly, he had ran over here Niall noticed; sweat matted across his forehead was enough indication.

Niall turned around to see Liam, as he had come to learn his name, walking towards the bread shelf carefully looking to find the requested item. Once he did, he placed it into a paper bag and made his way back to the young boy. Niall’s gaze followed the two as the boy with floppy curls huffed out a ‘how much’ and Liam laughed brushing the money away. The boy offered a polite smile before ducking out of the store without another word.

“Do you plan to run out of business so I can marry you or..?” Zayn teased to which Liam turned around.

“That was Harry,” he stated as if both boys knew who he was, and maybe Zayn did because he let out an ‘O’ in response leaving Niall the only confused spectator.

The rest of evening was spent in Liam’s backyard which was funnily the store’s backyard. He had closed early in celebration of Zayn’s arrival and Niall’s introduction. Niall decided he liked Liam, he liked the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed or how his eyes lit when Zayn talked or how he was completely infatuated with his best friend in the most adoring way possible. It made Niall hopeful and slightly jealous as he wished for finding someone who could make him laugh till his stomach heart, or who looked at him like he was their entire world. The way Liam looked at Zayn.

 

It was around the end of March when the King announced the masquerade ball that was to be held in a week so the Prince could find a suitable future wife. It was supposed to be originally held once the Prince turned 18 but due to diplomatic matters and the queen's health it was pushed to spring. Niall had been dreading the day since it had been first brought up, the idea of arranged marriage made him cringe. He was expected to meet a charming young lady at the night of the ball and somehow magically fall in love with her so they could spend the remaining of their lives together. But how was he supposed to know if he liked her enough to stay beside her forever when he hadn't ever experienced love in that way. His life wasn't a Lullaby by W.H. Auden or a Red Rose by Robert burns, it was like Snow. White as a sheet without any splatter of color. He could sit for hours crafting metaphors and allegories for his life, a feeble attempt to translate it into a bigger picture. Though it always ended up being a puzzle with missing pieces.

The main hall was elaborately decorated with satin drapes, a glass chandelier and several other royal trinkets. The menu was decided by the Queen herself, the main coarse consisting of the fifteen most exquisite dishes of Magnolia, desserts from foreign lands and wine as old as time. Kings and Queens, their sons and daughters, the renowned Nobles and the Dukes and Duchess were invited to this grand event. Even Harry’s family received an invite, as not only did the house had eligible maidens but his family was recognized by the Royal Court.

“Since everyone is invited I should be allowed to go as well, no?” Harry asked, he was done cleaning the manor and was now making tea for Esmerelda and her daughters.

Both girls immediately snorted in disbelief and looked at their mother for affirmation, “why would a servant like you be allowed at the Prince’s castle? Have you even seen it? Filth like you wouldn’t even be permitted to enter!”

“Alice, hush now,” Esmerelda urged, “if he really wants to go all he has to do is finish all his chores. Clean the stables, mop all the floors, dust the rooms, water the gardens and you should know the rest.”

Anastasia and Alice stared their mother down in shock but a dimpled smile broke out on Harry’s face. He had never been allowed to attend any events but this was more than that. This was a ball being held for the Prince, a Royal celebration which he could participate in. For the first time in his life he could act as a Noble, the son of a Knight that he had originally been. A status lost in the sea of lies he had been drowned in by his step-mother.

He skipped out of the room and proceeded to finish his errands. As he was sweeping the corridors, he thought of the castle and its huge walls and the fancy guards, he wondered what it was like from the inside. He also thought about the Prince, the boy who had been the hot topic since his birth. Someone who had no idea of Harry’s existence, someone who had been kept away from the outside world. No one knew what he looked like or how he sounded, whether he was tall or short. Harry always imagined him to be a spoiled child after all he was the only son of the King. He had no idea about the struggles of the commoners. King Robert was a generous King but for some reason Harry didn’t trust his son, mostly because no one knew who he was.

Finally, the day of the ball arrived. Harry had finished all his chores and showered and gotten dressed in an old suit of his father he had found. He checked himself in the mirror one last time, frowning at the old-fashioned attire he had adorned, before exiting the room. He made his way down the stairs to find the evil twins dressed in a bright pink and Esmerelda in a sea green gown.

“Are we ready to leave?” he asked, pulling his handmade mask out of his pocket.

“Oh, yes we are!” Esmerelda smirked, looking at her daughters who in matter of seconds lunged at Harry. Pulling at the lapels of his suit, the cuffs, ripping his button up open, all the while screaming how he had stolen that suit from their mother’s closet. It happened all too fast and Harry was left clutching on to the ripped pieces of the shirt, trying to process what had occurred. Tears came trickling down his bright jade eyes as he ran towards the stables; finding solace in the barn he had familiarized with over the years. Harry had always thought that no matter how hard it got, he would always keep his head up and never stop smiling. He doesn’t remember much of his mother but he remembers being told that his smile was his greatest possession and now he couldn’t bring himself to flaunt it. He wasn’t weak, he really wasn’t. So, after crying his heart out, he wiped his tears and made his way to town finding the only person he knew who could help him.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Louis smiled when he opened the door.

“I need your help.”

“For what, love?” the pixie haired boy asked.

“I have a party to crash and I wish to look spectacular,” Harry grinned as he stood in the doorway. Harry met Louis about two years ago. He had moved to Magnolia from Faerise, or otherwise known as the Kingdom of flowers, and was a well-renowned actor who needed a change of scenery. Harry had helped him find some work in the local theaters until he was ‘discovered’, as they joked, once again by an acclaimed talent agency; in less than a year he had become the heartthrob of teenage girls.

They walked into Louis’s room which had an old Victorian look to it (Louis was all about theater and class, he had once told Harry). They walked into his closet – in Harry’s opinion it was just another room – that had every type of clothing possible. Harry hadn’t really seen such variety before but then again he had lived most of his life in rags. It took less than 5 minutes for Louis to pick out an outfit for Harry. He matched a white ruffled button down with a black bow-tie, blazer and pants. Surprisingly, he even had a mask for the ball which was, once again, black with silver glitter on the winged edges. Once Harry was dressed he looked at himself in the mirror and all the confidence came running back. He was going to enjoy tonight no matter what.

The ball had started about an hour ago. So far, Niall had kissed about 100 hands and politely declined the offer to dance with beautiful girls about 50 times. He didn’t really see the point of all of this, the grand ball, the gaudy outfits, the over-played songs. Even though the world had outgrown from its conservative roots, his family was still attached to the traditional customs. He was greeting the 100th Princess when a young boy caught his eye. Niall excused himself and made his way to the boy who looked confused as ever.

“Are you lost?” he asked, grabbing hold the boy’s arm by the elbow.

Harry turned to face the most beautiful boy he had ever seen; even more than Louis, he thought. The boy had blond hair with brown roots that was pushed to the side, his eyes were ethereal blue and thin pink lips that looked overly glossy under the lights. Harry shook himself out of the trance, taken aback that he was ogling at a complete stranger, “actually, was just looking for the balcony. Needed some air.” He didn’t mean to lie, but he couldn’t exactly tell the truth about how he actually had no idea where he was. He just wanted to see the palace and maybe catch a glimpse of the notorious Prince, but here he was with a beautiful boy walking towards the balcony.

Niall wasn’t sure why he was helping the masked boy, but he knew he would do anything to get away from the horrendous gathering. Also, even though he didn’t want to admit, he couldn’t really say no to the innocent jade eyes looking at him behind the winged mask. The boy was impeccably dressed in one of the finest suits Niall had ever seen; he looked absolutely incredible, especially, the way his brunette curls fell onto his shoulders so gracefully.

They sat on the bench for a while before either of them spoke. It was, in fact, Harry who broke the silence.

“So, how come you’re sitting out here and not dancing inside?”

“I am not much of a dancer,” Niall replied.

“Aren’t _all_ royalty supposed to be dancing at balls?”

“Not all.”

“You must not know how to waltz,” Harry teased. Niall realized that the boy had a gravelly voice that was sort of soothing to hear. In fact, he wouldn’t mind hearing more of it.

“Of course, I do.”

“ _Lies_ until proven otherwise,” and with that Harry stood up, offering his hand for a dance. Niall took it without much protest, intrigued at how the situation was unfolding. He placed his left hand on the small of Harry’s, pulling him closer, and entwined his right one with his left.

Niall had never danced with a boy before so at first it seemed difficult, but once both boys became comfortable with one another’s space they swiftly whirled across the marble floor. The chest bumping, hand holding, overcrowding of each other’s space soon turned into giggles. Niall decided he liked the brunette laughing, his smile was so big that even with a mask Niall could tell that it reached his eyes. He also liked how he didn’t have to hunch over to look into the green eyes.

Harry liked how the blonde’s hand rested on the small of his back or how their hands entwined perfectly. The way he cackled at Harry’s awful jokes – Louis had never liked them – instead of just politely smiling, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled or the way he looked at him. And that was a first you see, the first time he looked into someone’s eyes and saw nothing but light. They didn’t know each other, but every touch was seeping through the thin material of his shirt, leaving a prickling warm sensation behind, making it almost unbearable to stand so close. It was the little things like the crinkles around the other boy’s eyes, the rosy tint to his cheeks, the settled arch of his eyebrow that made Harry’s stomach churn in the most pleasant way possible. Silence engulfed them leaving behind the song of their beating hearts, to which they danced. Harry didn’t know why they were quiet, why they were just dancing and not engaging in some sort of small talk but the air was comforting and the use of words to express the feeling seemed indispensable. So, instead of being wary of the stillness, Harry reveled in the way the other’s boy’s chest expanded at every breath. The funny thing was every time he took a breath Harry felt his lungs constrict; as if the boy was taking his breath away one at a time. They waltzed around till their feet ached and just as quietly they had danced they came to sit down, but this time leaving no gaps that wished to be filled. A reel of thoughts spiraled in Harry’s head, what did this mean? Was this goodbye? Will they ever meet again?

He hesitantly looked to his side hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy by his side, but instead he caught the other staring at Harry adoringly. So, Harry let go. He let himself indulge in the fleeting moment where the gold encircling the blue eyes was brighter than any moonlight, he let himself think that the unspoken word could somehow translate itself into an everlasting feeling, the same feeling he felt at that moment and for some reason he believed the boy felt the same.

“I feel like I’ve known you for the longest time,” the boy said without realizing the weight behind his words. And it was true, they hadn’t even talked much and Harry felt as if the boys’ presence alone made him feel like they were friends in some other life. It was odd because this didn’t happen, Harry never ran out of words, but as he sat there he could only stare at the person in front of him.

“You don’t even know me,” Harry managed.

“Can I get to? Would you want me to?”

 _‘Yes’_ was at the tip of Harry’s tongue when the clock struck twelve and the spell surrounding them broke. Harry wasn’t supposed to be there, this was a onetime thing, he thought. So, he ran. He needed to escape the illusion that was starting to seem real. Harry wasn’t here to talk to pretty boys and become friends with them, he was here to prove himself that he can get away from Esmerelda and her tyranny.

The summer heat wasn’t too terrible that year, the crops did well, the farmers were pleased and the Kingdom was happy. Well, most of it. The King was still adamant about the Prince choosing a bride. After the ball the King had expected the Prince to change his mind and maybe find someone suitable to be Queen, but to his dismay the Prince was still as stubborn as ever. He refused to marry a girl he knew nothing of.

“I don’t understand, did you not find a single lady that caught your eye?” Zayn asked, they were having one of their infamous skype calls that always lasted longer than necessary.

“I would tell you if I did. Can we talk about something else?” Niall was frustrated with everyone around him. He didn’t understand why it was so important to find a Queen when he was capable enough to rule the Kingdom by himself.

“Fine, tell me, did you ever find the boy with the ring?” The boy with the ring, the boy who danced with Niall for majority of the night, the boy with the gravelly voice. The boy whose hand slipped from his own leaving behind a bronze ring that seemed more like a wedding band. Niall couldn’t stop thinking about him ever since he had ran out on him. He didn’t understand why he left in such a hurry or why he didn’t care enough to tell his name, but Niall really wanted to find him.

“No, I think looking for him is a lost cause. He probably doesn’t even need his ring.”

“Well that must also be because the only thing you’ve done to look for him is sit in your Palace while your guard went out to find him based on vague descriptions.”

“He was wearing a mask! How would I know what he looks like?” Niall retorted, remembering the forest-green eyes that exuded warmth at every glance.

“Yes, whatever you say your majesty.”

“ _Zayynnnn!_ Don’t be like this.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re talking about?” Zayn replied, by his tone Niall could tell there was a huge smirk plastered on his face. Sometimes Niall wished that they were real brothers so he didn’t have to wait for an entire year to feel whole again, so he could maybe have someone who he could constantly count on.

Later that day the King announced that the palace will be having guests that will be potential brides to the Prince, this way the Prince will not only get to know each one of them, but also maybe pick a future Queen. Niall was playing the piano, the keys so familiar that he no longer required concentration to perform the task, when a maid came in, "Your Highness, the tailor is here for your fitting." And with that the grey eyed girl left the room. The fitting was for the first dinner with the girls, there were about 6 of them and so far none of them had impressed Niall. Niall didn’t want to attend the dinner, he didn’t want to participate in pointless conversation where he was told several times over how many palaces the Princesses had to their name or how they were studying at one of the finest schools in the Kingdom.  
None of that was interesting to him so instead of going to the tailor he decided to go in to the city. It wasn’t his first time going out alone. Ever since Zayn had taken him to the bakery he had ventured around town to acquaint himself with his people. He thought it was best for the future King to know his people if he was going to rule over them. During one of these ventures he found a secret spot too that sort-of became his safe haven where he played the guitar. Except today, there was someone there. It was a young boy, or it seemed so from his back, with curly hair that fell to his shoulders.

He was kneeling down the river bank with his hands in the water, “you know it’s rude to stare?”

His voice startled Niall out of his daze, “my apologies, it’s not every day you find someone digging into the river with their bare hands.”

“Smart one,” he removed his hands from the water, wiping them clean on his trousers, before continuing, “I dropped something.”

“Would you like some help?” Niall offered, hoping that the boy will turn and accept his kindness.

“Actually, I th-,” he stopped mid-sentence once he turned around to face the stranger in question. The boy was shocked Niall could tell, but he tried to play it off, “I think I lost it for good.”

“Hi, there.” Niall waved awkwardly.

“What brings you out here?” Harry asked, a smile playing at his lips. He didn’t think he would ever see the blue eyes again, but here he was standing in front of the reason that had clouded all thoughts lately.

“A Prince can’t go about his own town, now?” Niall smirked knowing fully well that the boy hadn’t known about his status before. He didn’t know what he expected but he certainly didn’t think that his status wouldn’t faze the boy at all.

“You can certainly do whatever you want,” Harry smiled at his foolishness more so than the stranger in front of him. A Prince, he was the Prince. The same Prince for whom the ball had been held, the same Prince whom Harry wanted to catch a glimpse of.

Niall moved towards the boy trying to close to the distance in case the boy decides to run again, “May I know your name?” He was now standing about a few meters away from the boy.

“If you ask this politely I’ll tell you my bank a/c number as well,” Harry cackled as if he had told the best joke in the world, “Names Harry, your majesty.”

“Please no need for titles. Just call me Niall.”

“Niall it is then,” Harry beamed, offering his right hand knowing fully well that Niall was left handed; something he picked on the first night they met.

“So, Harry what is that you were looking for?”

~~-~~

Harry was adored by everyone in town, Niall noticed – be it the florist at the end of the street, or the cobbler near the palace, every time Niall and Harry passed a vender or a store the owner would offer a warm smile or a wave, making Harry’s dimpled smile grow even wider. It was probably because of his charming personality, Niall concluded; his quirky yet awful jokes, his high pitched laugh, his utter politeness, everything seemed to make him so much more endearing. Niall couldn’t help but adore him just as the others did.

It didn’t take long for Niall to fall for Harry, it started with them occasionally hanging out near the river bank – Niall strumming his guitar while Harry read a book he had picked up from the library. They would sit in silence for the most part, but soon the silence turned into chatter and terrible jokes and long picnics. And when they did go back to doing their own thing Niall couldn’t help but steal a sideway glance at Harry. His profile was mesmerizing and the way the wind blew the curls made Niall want to move forward and push them out of his eyes.

The thing was Niall felt small compared to Harry, and it wasn’t physically, but more when it came to worldly matters. They talked about their lives and their adventures and even though they both had been trapped in their respective cages somehow Harry had been able to spread his wings and experience things Niall hadn’t – they needn’t be something huge like travelling the world, but instead they were small menial things like doing your own chores, having the social skills to converse with a stranger, the pure anticipation of the future. Niall thought that his royal status, albeit providing him with world-class education, had stripped him of many opportunities. He had no idea who were the people in his Kingdom or what they liked and wanted; that was something his father had always looked after.

The street they were walking on was busy, everyone engrossed in their daily tasks, all kinds of bartering and trading taking place, even sounds of bickering could be heard and Niall thought momentarily of how much he had missed out on and how much he had learned over the past few months since he had come to know Harry.

“Where are we going today?” Niall asked, raising his voice a bit so he could be heard over the hustle and bustle of the street. Harry just turned to face him with mischief written in his eyes, “you’ll know.”

They made their way out of the Humira, the market place, and started walking towards the outskirt of the town. They walked for about twenty before arriving at a small lake that was hidden behind vines and trees that Niall had never seen before. The sight was breathtaking, two tree branches entangled with one another over the lake with vines falling to the side like curtains – there were also sakura petals scattered across the ground they were standing on.

Harry held out his hand, “Come on.” Niall graciously took it and they climbed their way to the entangled branches where they seated themselves.

“This is absolutely brilliant, how did you find this place?” Niall asked, still taking in his surroundings.

“It’s my secret place. No one knows about it but me, I come here when I want to detach myself from the real world.”

Niall frowned, his brows furrowing, “then why’d you bring me here?”

Harry looked down trying to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks, “because I use to come here at least twice a week but since I’ve met you I haven’t felt the need to do so.”

“And why is that?” Niall asked softly.

“Because for the first time the real world is better than this haven,” Harry replied. The sun was going down and the fading daylight made the lake glow even more beautifully.

Niall didn’t know how to respond. He had never been good with his words and today they were failing him again, but he soon found himself abandoning such thoughts when

Harry smiled at him, “Have I ever told you how much I love writing?” Niall nodded.

“Before my writings were borderline cynical, trust me when I say that if someone ever found them I would surely have a one way ticket to the mental ward,” Harry stated, which got a chuckle out of Niall, “but recently it has changed. They say that writers write about their experiences and I don’t know how much truth that statement holds but all I can think of when I pick up the pen is _you_. You and only you.”

Niall had always known that Harry was the confident one of the two but he never had imagined him being so bold about his feeling; it made Niall very happy.

“What I am trying to say is that love seemed trivial and insignificant before and somehow you’ve turned me into a believer - someone whose every breath breathes your name and if I didn’t say that tod-“

Something in Niall went off and he lunged forward, almost losing his balance on the branch as he suddenly grabbed Harry’s face in his hands and pressed their lips together.

Harry was surprised at first but soon his hands found Niall’s face while his lips pressed gently against his. The kiss was slow and messy considering it was a first for both, but they both reveled in the moment. Niall broke the kiss only to catch his breath but when he saw Harry’s face he thought all life had been sucked out of him. Harry looked picturesque under the weak daylight with his curly hair tousled to the side, his jade eyes glowing a thousand embers and his pink lips that made the sakura petals look pale in comparison.

“You’re beautiful,” Niall breathed, his entire body burning at the image before him.

Harry softly laughed at thinking how his big romantic monologue had been reduced to a breathless kiss – he didn’t mind it though. Harry was ecstatic that his feelings were being reciprocated and for a second the ordeals they might face by being together seemed feeble compared to happiness that was radiating off of them.

Harry got lost in his thoughts, but Niall’s sad expression brought him back from his daze. “Is something the matter?” Niall asked.

“No, no. Nothing,” Harry shook his head, looking back up at Niall. He was gorgeous, Harry thought. He found himself smiling.

“This is okay, right?” Niall asked, entwining their hands. Harry could see the wary in Niall’s eyes as if he was crossing a boundary he wasn’t supposed to.

“Only if you think so.”

“I do,” Niall beamed.

 

-

The problem wasn’t that Niall was in love with a man, but the fact that since he was the only child of the King he was expected to produce heirs. The thought didn’t occur to Niall until his father announced his marriage to the daughter of King of Romania. He was livid that his father had made the decision without his consent.  
He walked into his father’s chamber as soon as he was alarmed of his fate, “What do you mean I am getting married to Annaliese? I never agreed to this!”

“Yes, you didn’t, but you never chose a bride either so we assumed you didn’t have a preference. We chose one for you,” his father replied calmly. He was in bed reading over what looked like legal documents while his mother was sat on an ottoman in front of her mirror, brushing her hair.

“We did it for your best, love” his mother added.

“But I am in love with someone else! I was going to te-“but before he could finish his rant he was interrupted, “Do they love you back?”

Niall shouldn’t have hesitated, but not once he heard the words I love you from Harry’s mouth. His silence answered the King’s question, “I guess not.”

Niall knew he was wrong because he had seen the way Harry smiled at him, a smile that he had reserved just for Niall and the way he held his hand as if their palms touching held their entire world and if they pull apart it will crumble into pieces. Harry was his world, a world that was more melodic than any instrument Niall had ever played or heard of.

“You’re wrong. He does,” Niall replied sternly, emphasizing his point maybe more to himself than his father.

“He? _Oh, darling_ ,” his mother gasped, leaving her seat and walking towards her son.

“Niall, you do realize that this country needs an heir?” his father questioned coldly. That is when Niall realized how much his father had aged, he could see his wrinkled forehead, and his frail and bony figure was more prominent than ever and tired eyes that had seen too much to tell.

“We can adopt,” Niall challenged, knowing fully well that that would mean an end to the Horan lineage.

“I have never asked of you anything and today when I do you turn me down. Alright, do as you wish,” with that his father put an end to their conversation.

Niall didn’t leave the castle after that. A month later the wedding invitations were sent out.

-

“What is this?” Zayn came barging in with an invite in hand.

“From the looks of it seems like a wedding invite,” Niall answered, still looking out his bedroom window.

“Don’t give me that. What about Harry?” he asked. And with that the overwhelming guilt resurfaced. Niall had spent his nights curled up in bed silently sobbing until his heart was empty hoping that he could erase the embedded feelings. But he couldn’t, it was as if Harry had managed to become part of his very soul, as if his every touch still lingered on Niall’s skin making it burn and itch under its ghostly presence.

“He’ll be fine. He always has been.”

“Ni, there are other ways. Talk to your parents! I bet you can figure something out,” Zayn suggested, throwing his hand in the air with frustration.

“Not everyone has it easy, Z” Niall didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to imply that since Zayn had other siblings his marriage to Liam wouldn’t be objected against, but the bitterness in him got the best of him. Yet Zayn’s kindness once again melted his heart, “Ni, I will do anything to make you happy, you know? Do you want to run away? We can do that! No one will know. Liam has family in the Milea’s that can host you for a bit and after that you can just travel the world with Harry. He’s a writer he loves those kind of things and you love music. You’ll be happy.”

And for a moment Niall let himself indulge in the possibility of escaping, thinking that maybe they could make it, but when he thought of his parents and how much he owed to them he let his dreams crash and burn.

“It’s alright, Z. Not every love story ends up being a fairytale with happily ever after’s. I’ll be fine. Just look after Harry, okay?” he requested, his voice soft and trembling. Niall had told Zayn everything about Harry once they started seeing each other and to his surprise Zayn already knew of him. Harry was a regular at Liam’s bakery and, in fact, Liam and he were great friends. This little piece of knowledge brought the four boys together over the summer and it wasn’t until one day Louis came barging in Liam’s house, drunk out of his mind, that their quintet was complete.

“He needs you to look after him, not me.” But Zayn was wrong because it was Niall who needed him, not vice-versa

Niall didn’t know where the time passed, but soon it was the night before the wedding. He had finally excused himself from the guests and Princely duties and retired to his room when he heard a knock on his door.

“For god’s sake, what now?” He opened the door to find a very familiar pair of green eyes staring at him.

“It will only take a moment. Only if you have that to spare, of course,” Harry replied gently, he was wearing a ratty old blue V-neck and tight cut-off jeans that had become sort of his trademark.

Niall could only nod, opening the door enough for him to slide in. Niall closed the door behind him making sure to lock it to avoid interruptions, but once the lock clicked he felt his feet glued to the ground.

“I won’t bite,” even without looking Niall could picture a teasing smile on Harry’s face, the same smile that made Niall’s heart flutter. He turned to face the boy whose heart he had broken, he was standing in front of him with a small smile. His features somehow shimmered under the dappling pale moonlight. He was more beautiful than Niall remembered.

“I’ll start speaking because obviously you’ve lost the ability to,” Niall could tell Harry was only joking but he couldn’t ignore the tugging at his heart, “I didn’t come here looking for an apology, in fact, it is quite the opposite, I forgot to tell you something before.”

“What did you forget?” his voice was small, Niall was afraid that Harry might’ve not heard him but the look on his face said the opposite.

“I never clearly told you how I feel about you,” Harry stopped to pull out a journal from his back pocket, “I wrote about it you see.” He was holding a battered moleskin that seemed like it had ink all over it. Niall had seen it before but never dared to ask what it was; but now that Harry stood in front of him shyly flipping through the pages he realized what it was. Niall felt like he was running short on air.

-

Harry didn’t know what encouraged him to make his way to the castle but he knew that right now as he stood in front of Niall he was ready to do whatever it takes to profess his feelings. He opened the moleskin to the date when he first realized how he felt.

He cleared his throat before reading, “I have seen dusk turn to dawn and vice-versa, I have seen the night sky illuminate under shimmering stars, I’ve heard the wind howl its lovers name until its last breath, but I never understood their significance. And today, I sit here writing in this beat-up moleskin the very same things. I didn’t know I could feel the way I feel right now, I could see the colors I see right now, and it seems almost silly to admit that all those writers whose books I read to be ironic have somehow translated into my own life. I didn’t realize I could hold on to someone’s every word, anticipating the next as if it was a game made for only me to play. I didn’t know blue could have such an ethereal shade where I could stare at it for a lifetime and not be tired, or how calloused hands could play a melody that can shake every bone within me. I didn’t know my heart could beat so fast in someone’s absence and even faster in their presence. I didn’t know how 8 eight letters could feel like an anchor in my throat, lost in the sea of feelings and desires. I just want to say that I am privileged to receive this feeling today and if I happen to read this entry in the future I want to tell myself that I have never been happier and I hope that somehow the smile that is brighter than the sun can prove me wrong and make me even happier because even though these words didn’t mean anything more than written script before, right now they are only shouting one thing for forever and more; _I love you, Niall_.”

Tears streamed down Harry’s face as he closed his book only to see a mirror image in front of him. He leapt forward, pulling the older boy into an embrace. With tangled limbs and muffled sobs they made their way to Niall’s bed where they sat crying till tears ran dry. Harry pulled away to lift Niall’s chin to pepper kisses along his blotchy tear stained skin.

“I love you, Niall. I love you _so so_ much,” Harry repeated like a spell as he kissed every inch of Niall’s face.

Once both boys calmed down and silence once again engulfed the room, the weight of their love for one another took over. Niall was no longer afraid to let his hand linger on top of Harry’s longer than necessary and the sweet kisses turned into passionate ones as the night progressed. And under the duvet they made silent promises that were meant to broken. Promises of finding one another again.

Niall James Horan got married to Annaliese Renee Vernaza on January the 21st. The wedding was grand in the most exquisite manor and Niall couldn’t deny that Annaliese looked absolutely stunning in her dress. They made vows to love one another under any circumstance and Niall kept his promise. He was a loving husband and an even excellent ruler. Annaliese got pregnant around July and gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Luke James Horan, in March the next year. There were celebrations all over the country and Niall’s parents were extremely pleased welcoming their grandson into the family. However, after the birth of their child Annaliese fell gravely ill and passed away the following winter. Her death was a grave loss to the kingdom and the absence of a queen started to make people wary.

Niall was asked to re-marry, but he politely declined the offer again and again saying that he was still very much in love with his late wife. A lie he told not only others but himself too. He had tried to fall in love with her but his eyes were always searching for a pair of green ones. But no one knew of that except for him and, maybe, the sakura’s that didn’t bloom since the night of broken promises.

 

-

Harry left Magnolia and Esmerelda’s manor on his 18th birthday. His adventures filled journals after journals, beige sheets painted in black ink left to right. Soon the incomplete thoughts, the late night scribbles turned into coherent sentences and one Monday morning he found himself reading contractual details sent to him by a publishing company. He never would’ve thought that someday his disconcerting thoughts would be worth reading but here he was filling out papers that proved him wrong. When the first hard-copy of the book was published Harry didn’t dare read it, knowing fully well how hard it had been to solely jot down the words that were now neatly pressed on white pages. But despite his best attempts the last paragraph was imprinted in his memories like a scalding burn. A heartfelt tirade that even he couldn’t resist.

Harry moved back to Magnolia the winter that his novel is published; settling for a small house in his old town. And before he could stop he finds himself tracing his steps back to the stores that once felt like home and familiarizing with scents that use to calm his nerves. He is in the middle of admiring the crafty handiwork of a street vendor when a little boy runs into him. He carefully places the clay pot back on its spot before looking at back at the little boy crouching in front of him, “are you okay?”

“No, I hurt my head,” he responds, rubbing at his forehead.

Harry bends down to his level to examine the boys head, “aw, let me see.” It only takes one glance and his vision is blurred with a familiar blue, a color that is similar to the one forever occupying his thoughts, but still quite not the same.

“Is something the matter, Mister?”

Before Harry can respond an arm jerks the boy up, “didn’t I say don’t run? What would’ve have happened if you had gotten lost?”

And it’s as if the voice resonates in Harry’s bones because his eyes remain fixated at the pavement below. He could never forget the Magnolian lilt that made his knees weak, his breath short and his palms sweaty; once more he was feeling all those things. Harry could faintly hear the boy apologizing and concocting some excuse that was lost to the sound of his beating heart; he contemplated quietly getting up and leaving but he felt powerless. He finally gathered enough energy to stand up, but his eyes betrayed him, lingering a second too long.

It was odd how the person in front of him made his past memories hazy. The skinny blond boy he knew was now grown up and filled out his frame, muscles beneath a white t-shirt contracting at the sight before him. He could see that the blonde hair was now darker and the freckles under his nose were less prominent thanks to the even tan. Though if he could pick one thing that didn’t change then he would point at the baby blues that made him feel bare and vulnerable in a crowd of strangers.

“ _Hi_ ,” Niall breathed almost pleadingly, raising his hand to wipe away the tears prickling in his eyes. That’s when Harry noticed the bronze band perfectly encircling Niall’s ring finger. The same band that started their entire journey. Without any warning his feet move towards the other boy, his arms encircling around his now built frame, enveloping him into a hug. And for the first time in years he can breathe.

 

 

That spring the sakura’s bloomed once _again_.

**Author's Note:**

> leaves comments, kudos and all that jazz!


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